HOLY THURSDAY – the Thursday before Easter- is a big celebration in churches in Romania. Even though, the unwritten custom was to observe the day without working, but fasting, meditating and praying, my both grandmas and my mother kept doing the daily labor, while praying and fasting.
At dawn they went to a church gathering, grandmas in the villages and mom in our city. Sometimes my dad would attend, as well, but was pretty worried not to be caught by the communist secret police and lose his job as a supervisor.
I didn’t like going to church, especially on Holy Thursday and Good Friday. It was too sad to go through the real story of Jesus who suffered and was murdered without blame. At that time, I didn’t care about Jesus. I thought God – if there was a God- was for old people. My life was ahead, and fun was its name. Because I learned that God and fun were opposite – boring stuff on God’s side, and excitement life without God.
I didn’t know people made it sound like that.
It was years after when I encountered God in a personal way and proved to me as the sweetest, loving, joyful person on earth. I mean in Heaven and earth.
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